The Dream of
by Devilish Kurumi
Summary: Nothing's pretty inside either of them. Songfic to The Dream of Evan & Chan. Bonecrusher/Tracks.


Author's Note: Random plot bunny I got. Bonecrusher/Tracks to "Dream of Evan & Chan" involving chains. Uh. It isn't pretty. For those of us out there who know that every Transformer can be paired up with each other, no matter who they are.

* * *

(...It was familiar to me  
the smoke too thick to breathe  
the tiled floors glistened  
I slowly spilled my drink  
and when you started to sing  
you spoke with broken speech  
that I could not understand  
and then you grabbed me tightly...)

He grins darkly, swaying as he makes his way to the brig, his optics betraying the pleasure he's feeling at this particular moment. He knows that he is not welcome on this carrier, that the other Decepticons fear him and hate him, but he shrugs it off in a stride because tonight is the night he finally gets to meet the captive_everyone_ has been so _eager _to meet.

He can't help but be one of them, if for utterly different reasons than the others.

They keep him chained to a wall, bound up like a gift to Primus himself, and save the drying energon seeping out of the cracks in his helm and chestplate he looks perfect. Just as he remembers. The captive looks up with dulled optics that don't brighten when they meet his, just flicker with the knowledge that they know one another and at some point, this had to happen.

"Hello, Tracks."

Just as he did then, the Autobot looks distantly around the room before responding, but this time unlike then, he has a name to place with the face. "Bonecrusher."

Unlike then Bonecrusher kneels down in front of the other, but just like then Tracks looks at him with disdain, not hiding the fact that the Decepticon is below him.

Bonecrusher prefers the view from down here, anyways.

"What do you want from me?"

Tracks sounds tired, different from the haughty and alive speech he once carried, but a year on a Decepticon prison ship can do that to you. Bonecrusher knows it.

"I've told you everything I know."

"Not everything."

"I told you-"

"The Allspark."

Tracks' intakes hitch and they both realize there's a secret here not yet revealed; Tracks looks away and Bonecrusher stares at him.

"You know where it is, don't you?"

"I know nothing."

Bonecrusher smiles sweetly – too sweet, like antifreeze – and rises to his feet, looming over the decidedly smaller Autobot, pricking claws against his scratched face.

"You know something," Bonecrusher purrs, "You know something and if you're very, very good, and tell me everything about the Allspark, I won't continue what I started all those years ago."

Tracks' optics light with sudden fear and he jerks away from the too-close-too-close Decepticon, back hitting the wall with a hollow, fatalistic bang.

"I won't tell you _anything._"

"So you do know something. You know something and you're holding out on me."

"No – no, I don't-"

Just like then Tracks stammers and stumbles and tries to coherently tell the other to slag off, but unlike then it's fear that impedes his vocal processes, not energon or –

Bonecrusher closes the space between them slowly, ever approaching faster and faster but going slower than he's ever gone in his life. Tracks tries to sink into the wall, become one with it, chains rattling and optics narrowing and widening with every inch Bonecrusher shaves off of their distance.

"You're hiding something from me and you won't tell me, even though you know what I'm about to do..." His smile has hidden meanings, just like his voice, "Makes me wonder what you really want, Tracks. A nice Autobot femme?"

"No – I don't-"

"No, of course not. Too simple for you. Too... _plain._"

Tracks tries to look away but Bonecrusher's too sure of himself, too aware of everything going on – his optics follow the other's and they have no choice but to meet again and again, until the other can't bear to look away.

"What would you rather have, little Autobot?"

(...I won't let go, I won't let go  
even if you say so, oh no  
I've tried and tried with no results  
I won't let go, I won't let go...)

Tracks shrinks back just like before, his optics widening so slightly at the other's touch, claws ticking against faceplate scratches too gently to mean anything good.

"No – I don't want-"

"You want something unique," Bonecrusher purrs, forgetting about the Allspark for now, forgetting about everything other than a bar on Cybertron and the Autobot chained to his wall. "You want something... _different._" An antifreeze smile, "I can't wait to show you something different."

Tracks makes too-sweet words fall from his mouth – words that had, years ago, stopped him. But now all the please's and don't-do-it's can't stop him. He's moved beyond taking an Autobot's words to spark. He's moved beyond listening to begging.

Chains rattle wildly when claws in past and present tick against a half-open spark casing, remnants of another, less effective attempt at gaining information. Tracks cries out more sweet pleads, stop-stop-stop's and no-no-no's, doing the opposite of what he wants, egging him on to get the screams he's hoping for, hoping and waiting –

Tracks screams and pulls away but there's nowhere for him to go, Bonecrusher's grip on him and spark already feeling out to show the other different, to show the other real _agony, _processors using the connection to assault the Autobot's, tearing at it with no remorse.

No-no-no's turn to please-please-please's and then stop-Primus-help-me's but no one's helping him, and all his pleading turns to screaming turns to sobbing. Bonecrusher rips him apart from the inside while his claws and dentals rip him apart on the outside, digging in and pulling fuel lines from his neck, drawing energon from all the right spots.

He's not sure when the sobbing turns to crying, or when the crying turns to moaning, but Tracks starts straining against the chains and Bonecrusher laughs, long and hard. The Autobot is wanton, pressing against him and intakes gasping for air, whole body shuddering and crackling with an overload just millimeters away –

_It's here here here-_

Bonecrusher pulls his processors back with coordinates floating through it, grinning against Tracks' neck and digging claws into wiring under armor. The other is so close and for a moment, the Decepticon is tempted to continue, to see how far he can keep the other on the edge, but he starts to pull away because he's not being ordered to interface with an Autobot.

Tracks cries out and pulls the chains taut, shaking his head and saying no-no-no in a whole new way – and he's been so receptive and Bonecrusher _does _believe in rewards...

The cries turn back to sobs in the end, the Autobot sagging against the wall and trying to keep breathing when his spark is ordering him to _die, _Bonecrusher standing above him now, and he likes the view from up here as well.

"If I had known you'd want it, I would have held back longer."

No-no-no's echo out of the other's vocalizer but Bonecrusher knows now how untruthful they are.

He crouches down and draws talons against the chamber, bringing out new whimpers and a small arch of the back that no one but Bonecrusher would see.

"I've tried-"

"It won't work." The Decepticon chuckles and nuzzles the other's cheek in false adoration, a mockery of everything the Autobot no doubt would want. "It won't work, little Autobot..."

He stands.

"Please don't..."

He ignores the other because he is going to go, and he will tell Megatron about Tyger Pax, and then maybe – _maybe _– he'll come back for some more information.

He leaves and Tracks smirks, bittersweet and terrified but it's all a lie, in the end. And just like then, he watches the closed door for hours, not knowing how much farther he can go before admitting that he'll never forget energon and half-promises in the dark before wartime.

(...He then played every song from 1993  
the crowd applauded as he curtsied bashfully  
your eyelashes tickle my neck  
with every nervous blink  
and it was perfect  
until the telephone started  
ringing  
ringing  
ringing  
ringing on...)


End file.
